


Stranger Gifts Have Been Given

by EmetoOmo



Series: McHanzo College AU [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Emetophilia, Illness, M/M, Sickness, Stomach Ache, Vomiting, Whump, stomach flu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 18:45:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15612591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmetoOmo/pseuds/EmetoOmo
Summary: With McCree back at the dorms, Hanzo tries to focus on taking care of him, rather than the growing sickness in his own tummy. This could end up being the worst holiday break, or the best…but there’s definitely no doubt it will be the most eventful.





	Stranger Gifts Have Been Given

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Graphic depictions of vomiting ahead.

With holiday break in full swing, Hanzo had the dorm to himself. There was nothing two it really. Two rooms with two beds on either side of a shared bathroom, kitchenette, and common room. As far as dorms went, it was as private as one could ask for. Even moreso now that all had families to head home to.

And he had McCree. Sick as a dog Jesse McCree, curled up sweating and shaking in his bed for the second day now.

Hanzo rubbed his aching eyes while he waited on the microwave. He was a terrible cook, and even worse at keeping himself stocked in food. While he was an expert with ordering delivery, it wasn’t the most appropriate thing for stomach bugs.

Ramen, at least, was something soup-like, right?

The timer on the microwave beeped, a piercing screech that ate through Hanzo’s exhausted senses. Reaching in, he used an old t-shirt as a buffer between his skin and the heat of the bowl, though he still ended up cursing as it cut through to the pads of his fingers. The steam wafted in his face and he turned his face away, taking a shaky breath.

As much as he was trying to deny it, it was getting harder to fight through the general malaise that had started tugging at him. At first, he thought it was just the sleep he’d lost studying and then taking care of McCree through that first night. But, as he mixed the chicken flavored packet into the ramen, the scent of the broth was starting to make his mouth water in the least pleasant way.

He mixed with one hand, using the other to press a fist against his lips and swallow back against the rising nausea. His legs had been shaking slightly from standing there for the few minutes he had.  _“You have no time to be sick. You committed to taking care of him. If you are not going to care for him, who will?”_ He found himself chiding himself, and taking a deep breath, he got himself back under control enough to return to his ward with food.

McCree leaned back in the pillows, focusing one breath at a time, his stomach gurgling wildly in the otherwise silent room. Everything in Hanzo’s side of the room was bathed in sterile white and satin black, with accents of beautiful golds and ethereal blues. Nothing in there spoke of college kid, but of a well off man who came from a family with enough connections to buy his way into school…leaving Jesse to wonder why he really tried so hard when he didn’t have to?

“Food.” Hanzo announced, motioning gently with the bowl as he came in. “Careful.”

“I don’t know if I can eat that,” McCree spoke, a sheepish tone to his voice that was still rough from the strain of having been so sick. “Stomach’s throwin a helluva fit still.”

“It has been awhile since anything has come up. You kept the water down. It is good to at least try the broth.” The elder Shimada insisted, and McCree let him place the bowl in his heavily blanketed lap.

“Thank you.”

“It is nothing.”

Hanzo turned to return to the couch, only to feel a gentle tug on the hem of his shirt. “Hey…you eaten yet?”

He made the mistake of shaking his head, the motion giving him a sense of vertigo, and he had to feel for the bed to sit down. “I am fine.”

“I didn’t ask if you were good. I ask if you ate anything. Can’t jus ignore yourself to care for me.” McCree said, before taking a tentative sip of the Ramen broth. Still hot. He hissed softly, and blew on the entire bowl.

“I am not very hungry. Perhaps I will eat later, once you are resting.” Hanzo didn’t look at him, keeping his eyes trained at the ground. Just the sound of him slurping made his stomach churn uncomfortably.

“Ya aint gettin sick on me, now are ya Han?” McCree teased, but there was a subtle hint of worry to his tone.

“I ate last night, when I brought you the water.” It wasn’t a lie. There had been some left over supreme pizza in the fridge that only had a couple days left before it needed to be thrown out. His stomach had just started to gurgle then, and figuring it to be hungry, Hanzo had finished the pizza off.  
  
He was beginning to regret it, the lot of it feeling as if it were sitting congealed on his stomach still, undigested and pissed.

“I jus feel bad, comin here, eatin your food, and you aint even askin for nothin in return.” Jesse said, braving a bite of noodles finally with a loud  _sluuurrrrpppp._

Hanzo swallowed thickly. “I am fine. I should return to the couch.”

He stood, but this time, there was a plaintive whimper from McCree who just looked at him and clamped his hand over his mouth suddenly.

“Hold on.” Hanzo grabbed the soup just in time for McCree to push weakly passed him and out of the bed. He didn’t get far before Hanzo heard the preemptive warning heave. Hanzo’s head swam, feeling his stomach constrict. _“No. No no no…not now…”_

A haze came over Hanzo as he attempted to fight through it, following out that door and into the hall that housed their bathroom immediately off to the right. A dual-sink set up with a large vanity mirror, with a single stall shower and toilet off to the left inside there close enough for one to stick their feet in the shallow shower if they sat on the toilet.   
  
The cowboy’s feet hung out the bathroom door while he retched in the toilet, vomit—mostly bile—wetly hitting the water on the end of belchy gags.

Hanzo took one look in the mirror, seeing the ashen shade of his own features, and it was as if that was all the convincing his body needed. He could see his shoulders pitch forward and his stomach contract beneath his tank top, his face contorting with that first heave…but unlike McCree’s, it was productive and sprayed across onto the counter and sink.

His first immediate thought was to get in there to the toilet, and not thinking correctly he tried, but with McCree there, he merely tripped over his legs and found himself kneeling half in the shower as he vomited. His legs lay over Jesse’s as the rumbling, wet sounds escape his throat with each chunky wave of the pizza that projected from him.

The sound of it only made McCree heave more, bringing up another mouthful of stinking, stinging bile, even while he reached over and rubbed Hanzo’s back.

Feeling empty, or empty enough, McCree coaxed Hanzo over the toilet, helping hold his hair as he continued the relentless waves of painful puking, coughing as the bread tried to catch on the way up. Every once in awhile, McCree would edge in to belch up another small mouthful of stomach acid, before relinquishing the toilet back to Hanzo.

It felt like forever before Hanzo laid his head against the seat of the toilet, cursing in his native tongue, his dark eyes glassy with fever.

“You weren’t supposed ta get sick,” McCree smiled softly, despite his misery, and wiped a sweaty strand of dark hair from Hanzo’s face.

“Couldn’t…let you have…all of the attention.” Hanzo whispered, not shying away from the touch on his fevered skin.

Being sick on holiday break sucked, but there were worse gifts to get than finding love on the floor of a dorm restroom at three in the afternoon, Hanzo was almost sure of it.

-fin-


End file.
